Herbology Hangover
by agentfoxmulder
Summary: Asher has a hangover in Herbology. Life is rough.
"How does he not _hear_ that!?"

"Someone smack him! Get him up!"

"OI! MATE! WAKE UP ASHER!"

The boy's dormitory is abuzz with chatter, a bunch of aggravated and tousle-haired boys wandering in to the 5th year sleeping space. It's empty except for one bed on the end containing a slack-jawed youth, who is utterly oblivious to the piercing shriek coming from the magical alarm clock on his night stand.

For a moment, they seem to forget their aggravation as they stand around his bed, watching him continue to sleep peacefully, a bit of drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth. "He must be hungover from last night." One mutters, and the others nod in agreement. Then, without much ceremony, the boys grab one side of the mattress and lift, tipping the bedding and boy onto the floor where he lands with a thud and a yelp.

"Figured that would do the trick."

"That'll teach him not to sleep through his alarm again."

"I have to say, I'm impressed he slept through all that."

The boys talk amongst themselves as they leave, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Amidst a tangle of bedsheets and blankets and the weight of the mattress, Asher stirs, blinking blearily, hand jack-hammering around on his nightstand - which miraculously had not been knocked over by the up-ending of his mattress - until he manages to smack his alarm into silence. Shoving the mattress off of himself and managing to escape the confines of his bedding, Asher gets groggily to his feet, placing a hand against his throbbing head. He takes a moment to gather his bearings and get his wits about him, but he doesn't have time to properly process what happened as his eyes catch sight of the time- 9:05 AM.

He was late for Herbology.

Again.

He groans out a curse and begins rummaging around for clothes, throwing on the first things he finds - a rumpled grey shirt and even more rumpled denim trousers, followed by his robes, mismatched socks, and trainers that were falling apart.

Very fashion-forward.

Without even brushing his teeth, Asher staggers towards the door, wand clutched firmly in his hand, trying to ignore the pounding in his head - remnants of the previous night's endeavors involving several bottles of firewhiskey and a dare that he couldn't drink as much as that stupid 7th year Slytherin.

And boy had he proven _them_ wrong.

And boy did his head _hurt._

Why did everything have to be so _bright_?

These thoughts swim through his sleep-clogged and alcohol-impaired brain as he stumbles through the halls, grateful to be in a ground-level dormitory so that he didn't need to battle stairs, though the great doors leading to the outside world were challenge enough. Looking (and feeling) like a drunken sailor, he runs haphazardly across the grounds towards the Greenhouses, cursing the sun and its too-bright light.

At last, he manages to make it to Greenhouse 3, where the rest of the class is assembled. He slips in as discreetly as possible, slumping his shoulders so that he might try and hide behind his classmates at the back.

It doesn't work.

Professor Longbottom pauses in his demonstration of the proper technique for tending to the _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ (without getting covered in stink sap) to look up, a slight frown on his round face. Asher guiltily makes eye contact, grinning sheepishly, waiting for the Professor to take away points.

Mercifully, Professor Longbottom merely shakes his head in exasperation and continues on talking.

Puffing out a sigh of relief, Asher turns to the student next to him- a pretty Gryffindor girl, Addie, whom he'd been trying to chat up for weeks. "You know what we're doing today, yeah? So you can explain it to me?" He whispers out of the corner of his mouth after tapping her on the arm to get her attention. He receives a cold side-eye in response, but he grins anyway, knowing Addie would help him regardless.

Or, well, at least he _hoped_ she would, or he was in for a face full of stink sap.

After a few more minutes, Professor Longbottom finishes his lecture and begins passing around a bin of gloves and face-shields, knowing at least half the class would likely wind up getting squirted. Asher selects a pair of bright pink gloves and a matching face-shield, grinning over at Addie cheekily. "Alright Miss Addie, let's do this." He doesn't ask if she minded being partners- he wasn't really giving her a choice- but fortunately she obliges, nodding as she pulls on her gloves and mask.

Together, they approach the bench lined with the curious little plants-they were almost cactus-like and not particularly pretty, and the one sitting before them was pulsating slightly.

"Eurgh. These things are gross." Asher wrinkles his nose in distaste, reaching forward to poke the little plant. Addie smacks his hand. "Do you _want_ to get covered in stink sap?" She snaps at him irritably, rolling her eyes. Asher feigns looking hurt, before straightening up and saluting his partner. "Sorry ma'am, I will follow all further instructions given to a T." He nods importantly, dropping his head and adopting a goofy, though surprisingly charming, grin, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach had begun to churn.

It seemed his hangover was not quite finished torturing him yet.

"Okay Asher, listen up. _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ is a defensive plant species. It will squirt out stink sap if it feels threatened. So don't you dare make it feel threatened, you hear?" Addie's voice is brusque and no-nonsense, and Asher nods, pulling his shield down over his face and giving her a "thumbs up."

"Alright, I'm going to show you how to stroke it properly. They like being touched, just not poked." She explains, and Asher nods again, feeling a bit like a bobble-head by this point, and grits his teeth a little, feeling his stomach bubble again. He watches as Addie gently strokes the plant, to which it responds with a little crooning noise. "Now you try." She pulls her hand back and fixes him with a hard stare.

Asher swallows back the bit of bile that has risen in his throat, and tentatively reaches forward to brush his fingers against the pulsating plant.

It promptly squirts him, and he jolts back, a streak of stink sap on his mask. Addie laughs, but mercifully wipes the sap off with one of the Charmed cloths Professor Longbottom placed strategically throughout the greenhouse. "Try again. Move slow, don't shake." She encourages, and Asher gives her a mistrustful glare, feeling as though she was leaving out a key instruction.

Once more, he tries to touch the plant, head pulled back in anticipation of getting squirted again.

Which he does. And this time, some of the sap gets on his shirt.

Lovely.

"It happened again. What do I do? How can I have that not happen?" He demands, grabbing the cloth from her and cleaning his shield and shirt off, eying her suspiciously.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you not to reach _over_ the plant when you go to touch it?" Addie asks innocently, smirking as she strokes the plant again, careful to come up at it, instead of reaching down towards it.

Asher glares at her, throwing the cloth back in the bin.

Suddenly, his stomach lurches and he wheels around, ripping his shield off as he dashes out the door and promptly pukes in the bushes nearby.

Merlin curse the wizard who invented Firewhiskey. And also curse his father for passing on an inability to back down from a challenge.


End file.
